


Francis

by cynatnite



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, CEO Clint Barton, Inspired by Music, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-12 03:29:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5650921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynatnite/pseuds/cynatnite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A different take using the song Fancy by Reba McIntire as inspiration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Tags will be added as needed.

They’d been living out of an abandoned railroad car for the better part of six months. The blistering sun in the summer of 1992 made it feel like a sauna. Clint and his brother, Barney, walked the five miles to the small farm town in Indiana in hopes of finding work. Who wants to hire a couple of strangers with no address?

Seventeen-year-old Clint and his older brother had taken to spending time at the grainery in hopes of a farmer needing help hauling hay or any other work that needed done. Jobs were sparse with farmers opting to hire family or locals who’d they known all their lives rather than a pair of homeless brothers. More often than not, they were shooed away and called trash for their troubles.

Clint wasn’t sure what his brother was doing on the payphone, but his eye kept watching the precious coins being slipped into the slot. He sat on the curb of the small grocery store sipping the can of Dr. Pepper Barney had bought him. Whoever Barney was talking to, had him waving his hand wildly and demanding.

When Barney hung up the phone, Clint scrambled to his feet.

“Do we’ve got work?” Clint knew it was a foolish question to ask.

Barney grabbed him by the arm and led him down the sidewalk. The town only consisted of two and a half blocks of small businesses barely scraping by themselves. They went to the thrift store and Clint followed his brother inside. The odor of old shoes and stale clothes made him wrinkle up his nose.

He watched Barney head to the back to the suits and at seeing the old blue-haired clerk giving him a sharp eye, Clint hurried after him.

“What are we doing here?” Clint whispered. “We don’t got the money for this.”

“Shut-up.” Barney snatched up a grey jacket and held it up to Clint’s chest. He shoved it into his brother’s arms.

All Clint was thinking about were the five cans of pork and beans sitting back at the railroad car. Here his brother was sorting through used suits and they were damn near starving. He didn’t get a chance to ask another question. Barney set two pairs of slacks and a white shirt in his arms.

“Go try ‘em on,” Barney ordered. “Come out so I can see how they fit.”

It was pointless to argue when his brother was set on a course. It’d been that way since they ran away from that foster home when he was six and they stumbled onto a circus. It was Barney’s insistence that kept them there until the circus folded up leaving them near penniless and completely homeless.

Clint did as he was told and twenty minutes later they were leaving with him carrying a used suit with a white shirt in a plastic bag. He was further surprised when his brother stopped at the local café. They left with two large burgers, fries and two slices of apple pie and headed back to the railroad car.

When Clint tried to talk to his brother about the wasteful spending, he was told to sit and eat. Halfway through the feast, Barney spoke about their mother. There was a light in his eyes and the few memories Clint had of her became clearer. By the end of the meal, they were laughing and joking around. He’d teased his brother about the girl who wanted to run away with them when they were in Ohio a few years ago. Barney reminded Clint of his first attempt at riding a horse. Clint couldn’t remember the last time they’d had so much fun together.

Early the next morning, Clint was woken from his sleeping bag on the floor.

“Get to the creek and wash up like you’re goin’ to church.”

“What’s going on, Barney?” Clint rubbed his eyes. He did a stretch and yawn before standing.

“Somebody’s comin’ and I want you looking your best, little brother.”

Clint stilled. “DCS?”

Children services was as evil as they come in Clint’s mind. They’d never done a bit of good for all their talk of helping.

“Oh, hell no,” Barney answered. “Just get cleaned up. When you get back, I’m giving you a haircut.”

He watched Barney shake out the used suit and shirt from the thrift store before hanging the items on a rusty coat hanger. When Barney started picking off the lint, Clint finally turned away.

When he came back, Clint was mostly dried off wearing just his boxers. Barney took the worn out clothes from his hands.

“Sit.”

Clint went to the lawn chair in the railroad car and sat. It wasn’t the first time Barney had cut his hair. They’d done it for each other since he could remember when the old fortune teller had taught him. This time it felt different. Barney’s hands were careful and sometimes affectionate when he’d ruffle Clint’s hair.

“Remember that time when the social workers tried to split us up?” Barney quietly asked.

“Yeah, they damn near called the cops after you busted out that car window.”

Barney paused for a moment, then continued to snip at Clint’s hair.

“They thought they were doin’ the right thing,” Barney said. “We knew it was wrong, but they wanted to help us.”

“Taking me away from you was never gonna be right, Barn.” The haircut continued and Clint waited for his brother to say something. “What’s going on? Why’d you buy me that suit?”

“People are gonna talk shit about me, Clint,” Barney forced out. “They’ll say I’m no good and a real piece of shit. They’ll be right and I don’t give a damn.”

“You’re my brother and everyone’ll know how good you always take care of me.” Clint clenched his fist. He’d punch anyone who spoke badly of Barney.

“You’ll hate me, too, but I can live with it as long as you don’t let anybody make you think you’re white trash. You’re Clinton Francis Barton and don’t ever forget it.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Clint could feel his heartbeat pounding faster as he tried to control the panicked fear growing in his chest.

When Barney finished, Clint got to his feet and turned. There were tears on his brother’s cheeks. He was frozen when Barney rubbed Clint’s chin with his thumb.

“Still smooth as a baby’s ass,” Barney said with a bitter smile. He stepped away. “Get dressed. Somebody’s comin’ soon.”

“To take me away,” Clint finished. “You’re givin’ me away.”

“I…I can’t take care of you anymore,” Barney brokenly told him. He used the back of his hand to wipe his face. “You be nice to him and he’ll be nice to you.”

Clint grabbed the lawn chair and threw it violently against the metal wall.

“Fuck you! Just fuck you!” He screamed.

When Clint stumbled back almost losing his footing, Barney rushed over to catch him. He began weeping as he punched his brother who was holding him tightly.

“I hate you!” Clint cried. “Please, Barney, don’t!”

Barney pulled back just enough to look in his eyes.

“You listen to me. I can’t get work. Neither of us can, Clint. We’re in the middle of nowhere and on the verge of fucking starving. This is a shit thing I’m doin’ to you, but it’s your only fucking chance of getting away from here.”

“I love you, Barney. We’ll find a way…figure something out!” Clint pleaded.

When Barney cupped Clint’s cheeks, the tears came again.

“I expect a promise, Clint. You make every step you take one higher than the one before. Fight like hell to make a good life for yourself. Have the one me and our parents couldn’t give you. Whatever you do, don’t look back.”

Clint jerked away and shoved Barney before stomping towards where the suit was waiting. He could refuse to leave. Clint could sit his ass down and not move. Barney would stay with him. The food and money were nearly gone. Alone, his brother might have a better chance of surviving without him. It made Clint pissed at him all over again. He wanted to yell a stream of obscenities at Barney, but his brother was convinced this was the best move for the both of them.

He put on the suit and as he was combing his hair, a sleek Cadillac pulled up the rocky dirt drive towards the railroad car. Clint walked past his brother refusing to look at him.

The man stepping out of the car could very well be in his forties, Clint thought. Wearing a dark suit, greying hair along the sides and a firm stance intimidated him. What would be expected of Clint had him shaking. He started towards the car and stopped.

Clint swung around and rushed to his brother. He yanked him close and held him. Whispering in Barney’s ear, Clint said, “I swear I’ll find you, Barney. Nothing’ll stop me.”

“I know.”

“I won’t let you down,” Clint promised. “I love you.”

Before his brother could reply, Clint let go and went to the car. As the man drove away, Clint kept watching Barney until he was out of sight.


	2. Chapter 2

**Current Day**

It wasn’t good news. Phil Coulson, senior exec at SHIELD Inc, was not looking forward to ruining CEO Nick Fury’s good mood. The morning had started off well enough and his old friend was actually talking about taking a vacation. Everyone in the conference room had stilled for a moment, then Nick did his infamous sly laugh at catching them off guard.

The receptionist gave him a nod letting Phil know that Nick was alone in his office. He pushed open the door and stepped inside. Nick was at his desk with his back to Phil looking at the New York City skyline.

“Were you serious about the vacation?” Phil asked.

“Haiti,” Nick mused. He sighed and swung around. “Give me good news and I’ll make it a weeklong trip.”

Phil set the file on Nick’s desk. “It’s not. We lost the Coastal Shipping account.”

“Fuck,” Nick muttered. He flipped open the folder. “Sitwell swore on his schnauzer we underbid all the competition.”

“There was a last minute bid.”

Nick nearly groaned aloud. “Don’t fucking tell me.”

“Beaumont swept in and undercut ours by nearly 18%.”

“How in the hell is that asshole even making a profit?”

“Well,” Phil said as he took a seat. “He can operate with half the force by having his people trained in multiple specialties. There is also the issue of private contracts he’s managed to keep off his books. My understanding is they are quite lucrative.”

Leaning back, Nick kept his one good eye on Phil. “What else?”

“He bought out Lyons a week ago.”

“Fuck!”

“They’ll go public with their latest acquisition on the 23rd.”

“Goddamn it, Phil, why didn’t we see it coming? This asshole has been getting there five minutes before we do just about every fucking time!”

“Beaumont plays a different game, Nick,” Phil explained. “Since his sudden arrival five years ago, he’s taken to cutthroat tactics rather than the friendly cooperation, sharing resources and intel we’ve always enjoyed. He’s folded five security and investigations firms into his company in the last two years.”

“It’s about time we start taking over the fucking sandbox,” Nick pointedly stated.

Phil couldn’t hide his smile. “I thought you’d say that which is why I’ve put together an analysis of his tactics and strategy. There is a weakness we might be able to exploit.”

“I’m all ears, Cheese.”

“The two investigation firms he bought are floundering. He’s made little changes to their operations unlike his other acquisitions. They’re maintaining their current accounts at the standard rates and he is not integrating them with any of his security contracts that we’re aware of. In other words, boss, Beaumont doesn’t know what to do with them. I’d hazard a guess his experience is more heavily in security, both offensive and defensive. Investigations and backgrounds are not his strong suit.”

“That sounds pretty damn green for a man who’s turned this industry on its ear,” Nick said with pessimism.

“Beaumont is using them, Nick, just not to their full potential and there’ve been a few slipups. He doesn’t have the right people in place.”

Then Nick grinned. Phil recognized the glint in his old friend’s eye. He’d witnessed entire boardrooms nearly tremble from the look on his face.   

“Stark Industries is looking to get into the clean energy game,” Nick told him. “Since he dissolved the weapons building end of his company, he’s aiming to get a top firm to pick up the slack where his AI runs short. He’s putting a five-year contract on the table for Beaumont next week at his party in Vegas.”

“Rumor is that it was Beaumont who sent the team in to rescue Stark when he was kidnapped in Afghanistan. Whether there is any truth to it, is anyone’s guess. We know little about him other than the white-washed biography his company distributes to the press.”

“We need to get in on that meeting, Phil.”

“Pepper Potts and I went to college together. She owes me a favor.”

“Don’t get my hopes up now, Cheese,” Nick teased.

“It’s a…uh…substantial favor.” They both smiled and Phil got to his feet. “Beaumont’s not walking out with that contract.”

“Of that I have no doubt.”

As Phil headed to his office, he mulled over how he was going to convince Stark SHIELD was the better firm. He already had a few ideas, but he needed more. Beaumont was a shrewd businessman with his acquisitions, but he’d fallen short in putting them to their best uses. If the few slipups Phil had uncovered were any indication, there had to be more.

He motioned for Trip, his assistant, to follow. Once at his desk, Phil sat and leaned back.

“Guess I’m going to Vegas next week.”

Trip’s bright smile seemed to get bigger at the prospect.

“So, it’s a go.”

“It was inevitable,” Phil responded. “This latest contract loss tipped it. I need everything you can get, Trip. You’ll have to call in some favors from your CIA buddies. Contracts, overseas ops, security details, personnel.”

“What are you looking for, Coulson?”

“I want Hawkeye Securities & Investigations to look like they can’t tie their shoes without falling on their faces. Francis Beaumont is not winning this time if I can help it.”

~*~

Clint jerked awake when he felt the cold drops of water hit his face. It was a few more strikes that got him upright. He looked over across the room at his assistant who sat in the loveseat with a smirk on her face with a toy water gun aimed at him.

“What the hell, Daisy?”

“It was either this or get my ass thrown onto your expensive carpet.”

“Anyone tell you it’s not nice to point guns at people,” Clint groused. He wiped the moisture from his cheek.

“Only if you plan to use them,” she said then squirted more water at him. Daisy set the toy aside and her eye caught the black bow and quiver sitting on the floor near the couch. “You went out again, didn’t you?”

“Oh, that?” Clint asked with a quick glance. “Range time, you know. I do have one, you know.”

“You are a terrible liar, Barton. You haven’t changed out of your gear.”

Clint rubbed the tac vest with his hand. “I forgot.”

He stood and headed for the stairs with Daisy following him with her computer tablet in hand. It was going to be another lecture if he didn’t watch it.

“What’s my schedule?”

“You’re not getting out of it that easy, shortstop. I’m gonna come up with a really long terse speech about how much danger you’re putting yourself in, of being recognized and that’s not counting my job, which I happen to like a lot, you know.”

“Later.” Clint walked through the open door of his bedroom and into the oversized closet. He tore off the vest and shucked it to the floor. “Itinerary please!”

He started hunting through the wide array of suits as he listened to what he had to look forward to throughout the day.

“I pushed off your nine o’clock until two, since it’s like almost ten now. You’ve got Avery in half an hour. The man is going to have a seizure if you don’t sign off on the Lyons agreement. There’s the luncheon with Assemblyman Sanderson at Per Se. His daughter’s got a birthday in a week so I got a gift. Don’t forget to take it. If he wants you to come to her birthday party, accept it like you wish you were a dad.”

“Awe, no girl birthday parties,” Clint groaned. After finding a dark blue suit, he stripped down.

“Those permits are going to be held up if you don’t play nice with the politicians,” Daisy pressed. “She’s eleven and a huge Monster High fan.”

Clint walked out of the closet half-dressed buttoning the white shirt. “Just don’t expect me to be fluent in tween.”

“You’ve got R&D for two hours this afternoon.” Seeing the bright grin on Clint’s face appear, Daisy rolled her eyes. “Save yourself some embarrassment and don’t act like you discovered Toys R Us. You’ve got a persona, remember?”

He pulled the tie from his pocket and went to the mirror. “Fitz loves it when I like his toys.”

“Clint, the more you love them, the harder he works to make you better ones.” Daisy sat on a nearby chair and watched him work with the tie. “We need to talk about Vegas.”

“We’re not talking about Vegas, Daisy.”

“We _have_ to talk about Vegas.”

“I’m going to Stark’s party, sign the contract, celebrate with a drink and coming back. That’s all there is to it.”

“You think it’ll be that easy?”

“Why wouldn’t it be? I saved his life, remember?”

“You know we’re talking about Tony Stark, don’t you?” She reminded him. “He changes his mind faster than a politician. If he can get something better, he will.”

“He won’t,” Clint assured her. “Tony practically promised me this contract.”

“He promised to throw business your way. Not this specific contract.”

Clint stopped when he finished and turned around. “Do you know something I don’t?”

“Other than the other twenty top security firms you’ve pissed off and would kill for a fifty million dollar Stark Industries contract?” Daisy shook her head. “Nope.”

“Fine, put the full package together if it’ll mean you not giving me that disapproval look you know I hate. Stark will get the Francis Beaumont treatment.”

Daisy breathed a loud sigh of relief and then grinned. “That’s my cute little ruthless CEO.”

Clint slide on the tailored jacket took another look in the mirror. Vegas was going to be a cake-walk.


	3. Chapter 3

_It’s a Stark party alright_ , Clint mused as he swirled the beer around in his glass. Techno music blasted across the room, the dance floor was packed with jumping bodies and guests mingled around one another. Another indication of it being a Stark party was that the host had yet to arrive.

Clint leaned on the bar and kept his eye on the door eager to get this deal signed. Parties like these were filled with sycophantic behavior masked as bravado. He’d already had to extract himself from a few party goers who were looking for an inroad to meeting Tony Stark. It was times like these Clint was graceful Daisy had kept his picture out of the news. She was the only one who knew that Clint Barton, Hawkeye and Francis Beaumont were all one in the same.  

His eye caught a striking figure entering the room. The well-tailored suit hung perfect on the lean body that Clint had no doubt was underneath. Dark hair was thinning a bit, but it was the self-assured face and how the eyes surveyed the room that had his attention. There was competence in that walk as the man came to the opposite end of the bar.

“Vodka tonic,” the man stated.

Clint sipped his beer and watched through veiled eyes as the man noted every person at the bar, himself included, with just the slightest move of his head. He already liked what he saw and Clint was already making plans to get to know the gentleman better. He was a little surprised when the object of his attention turned to face him.  

“Looks like the man of the hour is late,” the stranger observed.

“When is he not?” Clint mused. If this guy was angling for an introduction, Clint was going to lose interest real quick.

“True. They say the party doesn’t really start until Stark arrives.” The man took a few steps towards Clint. “With any luck, it might not be for some time.”

The man had been checking him out as much as Clint and shit, did he love it. “Fuck if you don’t waste time.”

“A little experience has taught me to never waste a moment,” he said with a slight grin.

Clint bit the corner of his lip. He was ready to take this sexy man in the bathroom as it was. All Clint saw in his eyes was “I’m going to fuck you and you’re going to love it if I have any say about it”. He shifted his stance and prayed his dick wouldn’t decide to wave hello.

“I’ve got a room,” Clint murmured and took a step towards the man. He was eyeing the man’s neck where his tie met. The skin looked delicious and his mouth was watering.

The sexy stranger moved closer until he was in Clint’s space. The face was a bit flushed and his eyes had darkened with want. The sigh he exhaled made the entire room feel hot.

“If I take you there now, I won’t leave until morning.”

The promise had Clint ready to say fuck it all and drag the man to his suite. Before he could agree to the terms, the crowd clapped and cheered.

Both turned to see Tony Stark enter the room with Pepper Potts at his side. As he made his way through the adoration and handshakes, Clint realized the billionaire was headed his way. He glanced over.

“Let me get a short meeting out of the way and we’ll continue this conversation.”

The man didn’t even look his way. “Mine might take a little longer, but I’m not going anywhere.”

Clint was just about to respond when Tony stood in front of them with a smile.

“If you’ll follow me, gentlemen,” he said with a grin Clint didn’t trust.

What floored Clint more than anything was Pepper Potts giving his midnight tryst a hug.

“Phil,” Pepper tenderly said. “You look handsome as always. Is Nick being good to you? The offer is always on the table.”

“Working for Tony hasn’t aged you a day,” Phil told her.

“Only on the inside, Phil.” Pepper looked over at Clint who was still speechless. “Mr. Beaumont, Phil, right this way.”

Clint didn’t move until Phil did. He walked next to him.

“You know Pepper Potts?”

“College chums,” Phil supplied. “She owed me one.”

He hummed, but didn’t know what to say. Pepper led them down a hallway into a large conference room. He went to the other side of the table and watched Phil take a seat across from him. Tony Stark stood at the head of it.

Clint hadn’t even seen the briefcase Pepper had been carrying. She set it on the table and opened it. Tony pulled out two folders and set them down and looked at Clint.

“You’ll get business thrown your way, but whether it’s this deal or not depends on entirely what SHIELD says.”

“SHIELD?” Then it dawned on Clint. He turned his gaze to Phil who looked calmly back at him. “What the hell is this, Tony?”

“Mr. Beaumont,” Phil began. “It’s SHIELD’s contention that Stark Industries would be better served with a more reliable and experienced firm. New upstarts always have difficulties and we felt your exceptional young company would perhaps serve SI’s smaller holdings.”

“What…” Clint nearly bit his tongue in half. He’d nearly started dropping F-bombs with as outraged as he was. He took a breath and gave Tony his full attention. “Mr. Stark, at our presentation you voiced your enthusiasm for our thorough proposals. There were no doubts that we’re the best for Stark Industries.”

“He didn’t have all the facts,” Phil simply stated.

Instead of clenching his fists, Clint slid his hands in his pockets. He was determined to keep his cool. “Oh?”

“Yes. The unfortunate kidnapping attempt of the international celebrity Sonja. Our sources indicate your firm had intelligence which you failed to move on.”

“It was deemed unreliable. We found a mole in her entourage who didn’t deliver on the itinerary he was paid for.”

“The mole’s ex-con brother is the one who got his hands on the itinerary and sold it to a Columbian. Your background checks didn’t go far enough.”

“Listen,” Clint said barely able to contain his fury. “Those people didn’t get within fifty feet of her and they are all currently rotting in prison. Mission success.”

“And your extracurricular activities?” Phil asked raising his eyebrow.

Clint stilled. Only one person knew. How could this asshole know?

“I beg your pardon?” Play dumb. Yeah, he could do that. The Francis Beaumont composure was already out the window.

“Off the books, you’re a military contractor. You hire out for more than just security and the records we’ve discovered so far has the CIA raising their eyebrows. Fortunately, the Justice Department has nothing to tie you to these operations.”

“You think I’m a fucking merc?” Clint was more outraged than relieved at this point. “Those jobs were private contracts for people who need help! We’re not out driving the prices past the point of the average joe not being able to get help when he needs it! Hell, most of the time we don’t even get paid for those! That’s why they’re off the fucking books.”

Phil turned to Tony who was humorously grinning at the back and forth.

“Mr. Stark, you know our record. SHIELD has done impeccable work for you in the past. We do more than eliminate risk. Our team is well-versed in international security, advanced strategic threat assessment and data compilation. The last thing Stark Industries needs is an inexperienced firm who uses Rambo tactics which are messy and expensive.”

Tony shifted to Clint with a “you’re next” look.

“That guy seems to think a clean desk and a computer is all a company like yours needs. You and I both know differently. Threats can come from anywhere, even from someone who’s only got a knife and pipe bomb in their backpack you don’t see coming. I’m a strong believer in on-the-ground intelligence because too many of the bad guys in this world know that off-grid is the best way to hide. That means getting dirty which we’re not afraid to do to get the job done.”

No one spoke for a moment and Clint waited for the inevitable ass-kicking out the door. Phil Whatshisname was cleaner and more professional. Clint had never felt more like the white trash upbringing that he had fought so hard to get away from than at this moment.

Stark separated the two folders and pushed them towards Clint and Phil which slid to a stop not far from each man.

“I figured it’d go like this,” Tony said. “That’s why I had Pepper prepare two contracts. Hawkeye Securities gets half and SHIELD gets the other. I split up the work for your perspective specialties. Congratulations.”

Clint yanked open the file and sure enough, it spelled out in clear terms what Tony had just stated. He heard the clicking of an ink pen and watched as Phil signed the contract.

“You knew?”

“It was a worse case scenario,” Phil answered as he lifted two pages and added his signature. He closed the folder and looked at Clint who was sure there was amusement in those stupid sexy eyes. “I wanted the entire contract.”

Before Clint could start ranting, he heard Tony clear his throat.

“If you don’t sign, SHIELD will get your half.”

Mentally cursing every step of the way, Clint put his John Hancock on the contract before giving it to Pepper who had already collected Phil’s. He wouldn’t leave empty handed and everyone in the damn room knew it.  

He didn’t move as Tony started for the door and then stopped.

“You two coming back to the party?” Tony asked. “I only ask because you both looked you were about ready to start a private one.”

“Tony,” Pepper chided.

“No, thank you, Stark,” Phil said. “I promised Nick I’d get in touch with him as soon as the meeting ended. I think he’ll be taking a week’s vacation in Haiti when I tell him the news.”

Clint wanted to shut that man up and not with his fists. Damn it, Clint thought. Why’d he have to be so fucking hot?

“Yeah, I’ve got a few calls to make myself.” Clint was in no mood to party, although a few strong drinks wasn’t out of the question.

When he and Phil were alone in the room, Clint folded his arms.

“You hijacked my meeting,” Clint accused.

“I was invited,” Phil stated.

“Oh, yeah, college chums,” he mimicked.

Phil raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t take it personally, Mr. Beaumont. Or may I call you Frank? We will be working together after all.”

“Francis.” Clint always said it proudly. It would unsettle adversaries because they never quite knew what to make of him. Obviously, this guy was nothing like them.

“I go by Phil or Coulson.” Phil set a business card on the table. “My private cell is on the back if you’re interested.”

“I’m not.” Nope, not interested one bit.

Phil smiled in that infuriating calm way and Clint did not check out his ass at all as he left. Before leaving, Clint put the card in his pocket. _Daisy will need that_ , he told himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Will update as often as I can.


End file.
